The Message
by Idan
Summary: Dennis Abbott knew how to get what he wanted. Anyone would confess given the proper incentive. Even Teresa Lisbon. Spoilers for Red John, if that still counts as spoiler worthy!


**Disclaimer**: I neither own The Mentalist nor make any money from fanfiction. I do it all for love.

**Author's Note**: During the rewatch of Red John, Donna asked me if I thought Lisbon ever got to hear Jane's voicemail. My muse pricked up her ears (I've decided she's a cat, capricious and willful but purry and snuggly when she gets what she wants). So here you go!

The entire CBI was made up of resentful, uncooperative people, Dennis Abbott thought as he walked down the hall, his footsteps echoing in the empty space. He couldn't blame them. The honest ones had been betrayed by their director and were now unemployed through no fault of their own, their careers forever blighted by Bertram's dark shadow. The guilty ones were now frightened they'd be held accountable for their crimes, ratted out by people they formerly depended on for protection.

He wasn't yet sure where Teresa Lisbon's team—or maybe it was more accurate to call them Patrick Jane's team—fell on that spectrum. They had made one hell of a Hail Mary pass to give their consultant his shot at Red John, heedless of the law.

And he'd taken that shot. Literally.

Then he'd fled, leaving his teammates holding the bag. Abbott had seen it all before, con men using their marks to distract the cops while they slipped away. Of course, the marks weren't usually cops, but by all accounts Jane was very good at the con. And his team's loyalty might have been honestly earned through years of solving cases, benefitting them all. Abbott admired them for that loyalty, unshaken in the face of betrayal, even as he thought about how to break it.

Cho probably wouldn't give a clue to Jane's whereabouts even under extreme pressure. Van Pelt was combative, but could possibly be tricked into giving something away. Her husband might cooperate to save them both from prison, but Jane would know that. He wouldn't have confided in Rigsby. Or Van Pelt or even Cho.

No, Abbott was sure there was only one person Patrick Jane confided in. He'd be sure of her loyalty because he knew he had her love. It was written all over her. That was why she was so defiant, so willing to sacrifice everything to see that Jane got what he wanted.

But Dennis Abbott also knew how to get what he wanted. Anyone would confess given the proper incentive. Even Teresa Lisbon.

Reaching the former bullpen, he spotted his prisoners. They were docile enough, though Lisbon's pensive stance at the window screamed anxiety. He knew they didn't yet know what had happened, but they seemed to know something had. A guess, or foreknowledge of Jane's plan?

Agent Mullins looked up as he approached. "Agent Abbott," he greeted him. "Ms. Lisbon's phone was ringing."

"Was it, now?" Abbott replied. "Expecting any calls, Lisbon? From Jane, maybe? No?"

The look she shot him was pure dislike.

"Did he leave a message?" Abbott went to the table and picked up the phone in its plastic bag. Sure enough, there was a voicemail. "Ah. Excuse me for a moment."

Lisbon looked like she was thinking of ways to wrestle it away from him. Cho looked like he was thinking of ways to help her. Abbott needed to listen to this in private before they dug their graves any deeper.

Safely out of sight in a former interrogation room, he played the message. And smiled.

Every con man he'd ever caught had made the same mistake: buying into their own con. And while Jane had been seducing Lisbon to his own ends, he'd apparently ended up caring about her. That meant she could lead Abbott straight to Jane, as long as he played his cards right. The only question was whether he could make that happen before Jane got across the border.

He had no time to lose.

mmm

Lisbon's mind ran in a loop, more a plea than a prayer: _Let Jane be safe. Please, God, keep him safe. _She tried to convince herself the call had been from him, meaning he was alive at least. But what if he'd been calling for help?

No. He didn't want her involved. He wouldn't call her until it was over.

Every inch of her was vibrating with desperation. She needed to get to her phone. She needed to _know_, dammit.

When Abbott walked back in with a smirk on his face, she was sure the message was from Jane. Unless Abbott was about to bluff, of course. She had no doubt he'd do whatever it took to find Jane.

Van Pelt was anxious and angry, a bad combination. "What's happening?" she demanded.

"Well," Abbott said, "we're still trying to figure that out. There are two dead bodies in the chapel at Alexandria Cemetery. One of them is your ex boss, Gale Bertram. Shot dead. So is a man named Oscar Cordero, who was carrying a Glock I suspect might be yours, Lisbon. Hm? I wonder if that bullet in Bertram will turn out to be from your gun, the one you gave to Jane, am I right? That would make you an accessory to murder."

Cho said, "Gale Bertram is Red John. You really want to take down good cops over that murdering son of a bitch?"

"Maybe. Maybe not. See, here's where it gets interesting. About a mile away, in a park, we found the body of Thomas McAllister. Shot and strangled."

Lisbon blinked. Crap. What had Jane gotten into? "Thomas McAllister is dead."

"In the bombing at Jane's house, yes. Apparently the forensics on that were tampered with."

Rigsby was frowning. "So McAllister was Red John?"

"What makes you say that?" Abbott asked. "Let me guess. Jane would only kill Red John with his bare hands, is that it? You may be right. But you see my problem. I've got a pile of dead bodies and a missing Patrick Jane. Where is he?"

Lisbon tried to hide her relief. Jane was alive. And not in custody.

Rigsby said, "What, you think Jane tells us his plans? You don't know him, obviously."

"You'll never find him," Van Pelt added.

"Oh, I don't know about that," Abbott said. "Lisbon? Your boyfriend leave you a plane ticket anywhere?"

"He's not my boyfriend," Lisbon reminded him. "And no. Jane never talked about his plans after we got Red John. I'm not sure he ever had any, to be honest."

That was true. Part of her was giddy with relief just to know he'd survived. She'd always feared he didn't plan to.

Of course, maybe he was heading for the Malibu house to die where his family had. Just because he hadn't been found dead didn't mean he would keep living. What would keep him going without his vengeance?

_Please keep Jane alive. Help him heal. Help him be happy_, she begged God. Even if she never saw or heard from him again, she just wanted him safe.

"Lisbon," Abbott said. "Let's chat. Maybe you have some insights you'd like to share. Maybe you can convince me your friends here aren't worth pursuing and I should just let them go home."

Lisbon glared at him, but she knew she had no choice. If she could get her team off the hook, she would, and Abbott obviously knew that.

"Boss," Cho said, "don't worry about us."

"I'm not your boss anymore," she said. But of course she still felt responsible. They were her team, her family. She was already in too deep because of Jane, but she might be able to save them. And she would try her best to do that.

She followed Abbott to Interrogation Room 2, or at least the room that had been named that last week. "I told you, I don't know where Jane is or what he's planning."

"Really? If he didn't trust you, then who would he tell?"

Lisbon ignored the dig; she knew she was the only person Jane really trusted. Abbott wasn't going to make her doubt that. "As I said, I don't think Jane had a plan. If he's improvising, there's no telling where he'd go."

"Now, I find that hard to believe. When two people work together as long as you have, they get to know each other. Likes, dislikes, that kind of thing. If you give it some thought, I'm sure you have some ideas where he might go."

A beach somewhere, Lisbon thought involuntarily. Jane had always loved the ocean. She dropped her eyes immediately out of habit, though she was sure Abbott couldn't read her thoughts like Jane did.

"Ah. See? I knew something would occur to you. Beyond the obvious, I mean. He's smart enough to head for somewhere we don't have an extradition treaty. Someplace low profile where he can blend in."

Lisbon stifled a snort of amusement at the idea of Jane blending in. He'd always seemed to go out of his way to avoid it.

"Or not," Abbott said.

"Look, I could sit here all day and guess, but Jane knows how I think. He won't go anywhere I could possibly think of."

"Possibly. But this message," Abbott said, holding up her phone, "is not from a man who never wants to see you again."

Lisbon squelched the urge to jump for the phone. "It's from Jane?"

"Yes. But you knew that."

She needed to hear that message as much as she needed her next breath. Had he said goodbye? Had he maybe, finally, said he loved her? Had he promised he'd get in touch? Send for her? She had nothing left here; she'd go. He had to know that. The painful longing nearly rendered her speechless, but she managed to say, "Please."

"Aw. I hate to refuse when you ask so nicely. But you know I'm going to need something from you first. I need to find Jane. So I'm going to ask you some questions, and if you answer them, I'll give you your phone back. How does that sound?"

"Okay." She had to answer, but he hadn't said she had to answer truthfully. Of course, she'd seen Jane get just as much information from lies as from truth, but Abbott was no Jane.

"He'll try to get over the border, but he'll know we have him on the no-fly list already. So he'll have to go by ground. Canada or Mexico?"

Lisbon thought of Jane's fondness for taco trucks and how he took every opportunity to practice his Spanish. "Canada."

"Right. He'll be using an alias. Does have have any favorites?"

Lisbon frowned. "He usually just uses his own name. I don't think I've ever heard him make up a fake one."

"Too bad. It's a message he obviously wanted you to have," Abbott said with mock regret.

Lisbon's heart hammered. She had to hear what were probably his last words to her. She had to. "Um, maybe Danny, his brother in law? Danny Ruskin?" Jane wouldn't draw his family into this.

"Okay. Now we're getting somewhere. Though I think we'll look for a Lisbon as well. Let's see, what's the masculine of Teresa? Thomas?"

"I have a brother named Tommy. Please don't harass him."

"Terence, maybe. I think he could carry that off better than Tommy, don't you? Does he have any foreign bank accounts, or money stashed under an alias?"

"I don't know. But, um, he made a lot of money as a psychic. It wouldn't surprise me if he had some money in tax shelters." That sounded like something con man Jane would think of.

"Credit cards?"

"He's too smart to use that on the run."

"You're probably right. Any friends he might ask for help?"

"Just me. Maybe Danny." She mustn't mention Sam and Pete.

"Good."

"Is that all?" Lisbon asked. She had to get her hands on that phone.

"I think so. He's headed to Mexico, and we shouldn't waste our time tracking down Danny Ruskin or surveilling you," Abbott said. "That's very helpful. Here you go."

Lisbon's hands were shaking as she took the phone, turning her back to Abbott as she accessed the voicemail and held it to her ear.

"Lisbon," came Jane's voice, hoarse as if he'd been crying. Oh God, what had happened? He sounded out of breath, too. "It's over. It's done. I just want you to know I'm okay."

Tears rushed up into her eyes, refusing to be denied. He'd thought of her. His revenge hadn't completely blotted her out of his awareness.

"And I'm going to miss you," he continued, his voice dropping almost to a whisper at the end, full of emotion.

And that was all. No goodbye, no "love you." No promises.

Just the truth.

She pressed a hand to her mouth to hold in the sob that wanted to escape, trying to keep her breathing slow and steady.

"So," Abbott said after a moment. "What does that message say to you?"

Lisbon dabbed at her eyes, drew a deep breath, and turned around. "That I'm never going to see him again." She was proud her voice held steady.

"Really?"

"Really." She wanted to get out of here, even if it was to a cell. Anywhere away from Abbott's prying eyes. "Will you let my team go?"

"Sure." Abbott shrugged. "I'll need statements, but given all the crimes I need to investigate, their offenses aren't worth prosecuting."

"Thank you. Am I under arrest?"

Abbott looked at her for what felt like a long time. "Not at the moment. That could change if your gun was used in any of the murders that happened today, though. Don't leave town."

Lisbon managed a bitter smile. "Where would I go?" Even if she knew where Jane was, even if he got in touch, she knew Abbott would be watching. It would be like him bugging her car all over again. She could never be in touch with Jane again if he wanted to remain a free man.

"Venezuela, maybe?" Abbott smiled. "Go home, get some rest. I'll be in touch."

"I bet you will," Lisbon muttered as she hurried out of the room before he could think to demand her phone back. She'd ask Van Pelt to help her make a copy of the voicemail, so she would never forget Jane's voice. She knew she would never forget him—the way his eyes twinkled at her when he teased her, the way his arms felt around her.

She would give herself some time to grieve for him and for her career, everything she'd built for herself that was now gone. Their life together was now over, and she grieved for that, too.

She hoped Jane would find happiness out there in the world without Red John. She would try to do the same. And maybe someday, if God was merciful and saw fit to answer her earnest prayers, she might see Jane again, somehow.

**A/N:** Okay, I hope I didn't depress you too badly. Just remember, they do get their happy ending!


End file.
